


The Feeling of Falling

by unorigelnal (jayburding)



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayburding/pseuds/unorigelnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this headcanon: Despite being the Robin voted most likely to have a football team of kids, Dick never ends up having children. Everyone has a different theory on why, because, despite how much of a doting uncle Dick is, it’s obvious he’s desperate to be a dad. Despite their far ranging theories, no one guessed the truth: Dick is sterile (has been since Infinite Crisis), and hardly the best candidate for adoption. Given that Dick is usually awful at keeping secrets, it’s incredible his family doesn’t know yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Feeling of Falling

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”

He tries to smile. It feels like his face will fracture.

“There are other options you can pursue,” Leslie says, patting his shoulder. “This doesn’t have to be it for you.”

Dick’s half tempted to hug her. He could really do with a hug right now and someone telling him it’s ok that he wants to bawl and scream the place down for how god damned unfair this is. But Leslie is the only one who knows, and he doubts she’d appreciate it.

“I’m hardly the best candidate,” he replies, his chuckle gurgling like a sob in his throat. “Dangerous job, frequently away, bad role model.”

“Well that last one is definitely a lie,” Leslie says, shaking her head. “And what are you going to do, put “vigilante” in the employment section of your application?”

“It’ll look better than “unemployed ex-ward of notorious playboy”.”

“Unemployed hardly matters when you’re independently wealthy.”

“Hardly independent,” he mutters, and sighs. “That’s not even the point. The money’s not the issue, Leslie. The issue’s that I’m incapable of holding down a relationship and can’t guarantee if I’ll return of an evening.”

“It didn’t stop the rest of your family,” she says.

No, it didn’t. Dick is surrounded by nieces and nephews, and he has Chemo to thank for his being the only one without kids. That his recurring failure with relationships. Maybe it was a sign.

“I should be thankful,” he says, and wonders if she believes him for even a second. He’s not sure he does. “I have plenty of family to dote on already. Besides, there’s got to be someone being the “only Justice” advocate now Bruce is getting on. Giving their all to the mission. Might as well be me.”

He knows she won’t agree with him there. She never agreed with Bruce.

The grip on his shoulder tightens. “You’re not expendable, Dick,” Leslie says, her face creased with concern. He can feel a lecture brewing, and he’s really not up for it. Not right now.

“I know, I know,” he says, pulling away. “None of this is on file, right?”

Leslie follows the subject change, still frowning. “The tests were under another patient’s name. Nothing affiliated with you.”

“And the blood test’s filed under Robbie, in case Bruce goes looking?”

Leslie sighs. “Would it matter that much if he knew?”

The only thing more awkward than what amounts to sympathy for Bruce is what amounts to sympathy for the whole family. And if they knew, everyone else would eventually find out, because the Bats and Birds are surprisingly bad at keeping things to themselves. He doesn’t want the pity.

“Yes, it would,” he finally says, reattaching his mask. He feels stronger with it on. Or maybe it’s just easier to hide behind the leather and the lenses.

He opens the window and ducks out onto the sill. Leslie follows him and catches him by the hand so he has to turn back to her.

“You’re not expendable, Dick,” she says again, squeezing his hand as if that will make him believe it. “This doesn’t have to be the end of it for you. Your family don’t want you to martyr yourself for them.”

Dick’s eyes burn behind the lenses. The muscles in his jaw snap tight with glass sharp grief.

“Goodnight Leslie.”

He slips his hand out of hers and darts away, practically running up the brick to the roof. His eyes blur as he launches himself off the top, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to see to fly, and right now he could with the familiarity of freefall.

Adrenaline clears his head.


End file.
